Author: Xxpresso
Title: Fire
Summary: When the CSI team goes for the yearly Police Camp at a reserve forest, it ends with a fire.
Feedback: Please!
Disclaimer: I know nothing about fires and Rescue Teams, there is no such thing like Police Day (Right?), and all the people there are just made up characters except the CSIs. I hope no one is offended if I wrongly described any departments, and this is just for fun, no harm intended. Just borrowing names. (FBI, SWAT, etc)
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Gil Grissom swerved into the CSIs parking lot, yanked out the keys and half-ran into the building. His team had been yelling at him since this morning and he couldn't wait to see for himself what his team had claimed to be true. Striding purposefully into the air-conditioned hallway, he could see crowds of people crowding around the memo board, some gleefully talking and some practically looked like some kind of black cloud. In fact, the "Black Clouds" were his team who was unbelievingly checking the board again and again like some piece of evidence.
Greg was the first to see him and he gave a shout, which sent everyone looking at his direction. Catherine turned next, gave a glare and then reached out and tugged him to the board. The crowd scattered to make way for the newcomer.
With his nose practically touching the memo, Grissom carefully read each word and let out a string of curses. He yanked the memo from the board and slammed into the conference room.
"Must we really go?" whined Sara. "It's awful."
"Sidle, Brown, Stokes, Willow, Sanders and Grissom." Grissom shredded up the piece of paper and sighed loudly.
"It's Police Day," said Nick, as if that explained everything.
"The day when all the US forces go for a week's camping to socialize," added Catherine.
"Five bathroom stalls?" continued Sara. "Forty-eight people? We are gonna fight like rabbits to go to the bathroom."
"The other CSI team went last year, it's our turn," said Grissom. "Just go and get over it."
"This is so outdated," said Nick. "All of us know very well that all the units have different opinions. We'll be fighting within an hour."
"When do we leave?" asked Warrick. "I missed that part. Too busy examining the 'Brown' on that paper."
Grissom sorted through the shredded strips and found the dates. "Next week, 11 a.m."
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ONE WEEK LATER…
"Got everything?" Grissom asked. His left hand held a 5-inch notebook and a pencil in his left. On his shoulders, he hefted a large camping backpack and his camping equipments in another black bag that lay by his feet.
Nick grunted, hoisting both his bags with his right hand. He set it down beside Sara's luggage and took out his baseball cap, using that to fan himself. "This sucks."
Sara who was already sweating in the hot summer sun, held a miniature fan which she held to her neck every five seconds before letting it stray down to the arms.
"I can't wait for this week to end," she grumbled.
"Where's Greg?" asked Grissom.
"He had to get an ice-cream," said Catherine, taking off her sunglasses to wipe away the beads of sweat on her forehead.
"I ordered one for you," added Warrick. "Chocolate Pecan."
"Grissom looked at Warrick's baggage. "That's all?"
"I'm a very simple man," said Warrick pointedly looking around him at the sea of luggage. "But right now, I'm starting to think that I missed something."
Grissom positioned his pencil on the notebook. "Check with me. Got your bottles?"
Check.
"Clothes?"
Check.
"Soap and Shampoo?"
Check.
"Guys!" Greg trudged up the burning sidewalk to the group standing near the bus station. "Ice-Cream man sold out."
"Great," grumbled Warrick.
"The bus is coming," called Sara.
The large olive green bus pulled up to the curb, the driver waving greetings.
"Here we go," Catherine yanked her bags up.
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"Say hello to Mother Nature," said Grissom cheerfully.
"No one told me we were camping in a forest," said Sara indignantly.
"It's not a forest. It's just a reserved camping spot," said Greg.
"Come on, let's join the group," said Grissom.
"You sound awfully cheerful," complained Nick.
"Make the best of the situation," answered Grissom.
The place was remotely silent corner and the utilities house and also the control center was situated outside the gates, which led into the reserved area. Trees shaded the people with their leaves and a tiny breeze slowly carved itself in and out of the talking crowds.
Six of them joined the enormous group of people. The level of heat was unbearable, and it contributed to the level of noise and body heat, making people snappy and jumpy. Sweaty bulky guys walked around and suntanned girls sunned themselves under trees.
The CSIs found themselves a tree and they sat around it, Catherine and Warrick remained standing. Grissom pulled out his bottle and began drinking.
Jim Brass, with the huge lettering embroidering his sleeve, LVPD came up grinning heartily at the miserable group under the tree.
"Isn't this a wonderful day?" he cheered.
"You are in too?" asked Catherine.
"I always volunteer to be in," Brass grinned.
Sara sank again the trunk trying to keep the buzzing mosquitoes from sinking their teeth into her. Nick drew out an insect repellant and sprayed it all over, brightly commenting that "It came to good use."
"People!" the booming voice of the Captain-in-charge bounced over the courtyard. "Let's line up and get a tick check."
The people gave grunts and began moving into lines.
"Get your leader to tick your names and let's head out!"
Grissom whipped out his famous notebook and held a pencil. A glance and he cleared the whole list.
"Let's go," he announced.
A few minutes later, everybody had lined up and the Captain picked up his mike again.
"Okay, we have the LVPD here, the FBI, next the Special Unit, the CSI, the SWAT, the Navy, the Seals, and the Marines. Everybody here?"
"Yes, sir!"
"Okay, head in and happy camping," the captain opened the gate barring outsiders from the reserved camping forest site.
The walked for about a mile before coming to a cleared area where posts stated each department's camping spot. The CSI spot was at a corner, tucked in a small cove of trees.
"Okay, welcome to our own private hell," said Greg giving a false cheerful smile.
Nick found a piece of paper and tacked it to a trunk. Black bold numbers formed a line and he managed to string a pencil on a branch hanging above.
Warrick shook out his camping bag muttering a curse when he discovered a hole.
"You wouldn't need that much," Grissom reasoned. "It's hot like a fire pit in here."
"Anyone remember how to put up a camp?" asked Catherine holding a few pegs.
"I think I can manage," answered Grissom.
Sara dangled a net bag full of canned food on a tree trunk while Greg and Warrick together hauled a few containers of water from the river.
"Anyone thought of bringing a pan?" asked Sara brandishing a pot.
"I thought of bringing a TV dinner," said Nick pulling the box from his bag. Sara put it into the net bag.
Catherine set her alarm clock at the foot of a tree and Grissom draped his jacket over a trunk.
"This feels more like home," said Catherine, fully satisfied.
"Hey," a beautiful girl stuck her head in. "I'm Geena and I'm from the SWAT team. Just wanted to know if you have lights with you."
Sara pulled out her torchlight and handed it to the girl who took it gratefully. "I've got two."
"Thank you, I'll return it to you as soon as possible," she turned and then called. "If you need anything, just come over!"
"Thanks!" Sara yelled back.
"Seems friendly enough," said Nick.
"Oh, I'm sure everyone will turn out fine," said Grissom.
"Except for the bathroom case," said Sara.
They spent the whole afternoon trying to make their site look comfortable and cozy. Grissom had even managed to snap a couple of pictures, adding them to his bug collection.
The evening finally arrived, sweeping most of the summer heat away with its gentle wind. Somewhere, someone was playing a guitar and soon, a low sound of singing made its way to the air. Many joined in and Sara and Nick had departed to join the merry group.
Warrick was not a happy guy when he saw the "social" plans for tomorrow. The word, Treasure Hunt made him feel like a kindergarten kid and despite Catherine's assurances that this will be more 'adultized' he still felt like a fool. Greg tacked the schedule beside Nick's paper.
Everyone helped to prepare dinner. The FBI spooned out the canned food and heated it up with the wood that the Special Unit got from the Utilities House after walking for a mile. The SWAT team sliced up cucumbers and carrots and made quite a decent salad. LVPD was in charge of the soup and Brass worked himself up in a frenzy trying to open the cans of Campbell mushroom soup with a knife; no one had thought of bringing a can opener but everyone had thought of bringing canned goods. Only the FBI was smart enough to think of that but as they were currently using it, the LVPD team had to settle for a knife.
The Seals were in charge of cleaning the eating utensils and they did it by the riverside. The CSI team had the job of spaghetti and they tried to steal the FBI's fire. Altogether, they were a merry group and all past disagreements and crossed opinions were forgotten. Even Warrick cheered up and everyone was smart enough not to say 'Treasure Hunt' to him.
The Navy was assigned the job of fetching ice cream later from the Utilities after dinner. The Marines had to wash up the plates and stuff after everyone had finished. Tomorrow, the jobs will be given to another group to make it all fair and square.
Friends were made quickly and the SWAT and Special Unit teamed up to tell heroic stories and missions both performed. Brass led the LVPD over to the CSI and they managed to find a topic everyone agreed to. Geena from the SWAT team came over and joined them after 5 minutes.
Dinner lasted three full hours and in the end, everybody had to help wash the utensils as the sky was darkening. The Navy dashed of to get the ice cream and when they came back, all the spoons were washed and Raymond from the Marines suggested that they use their hands to eat.
Merry complaints were filed but everyone agreed anyway to try. A huge circle was formed and the 15 boxes of ice cream opened and passed around. Eating it didn't last long.
Tira from the LVPD dropped ice cream over Paul from the SWAT and soon, a friendly ice cream throwing match began. That involved everybody and ice cream began flying everywhere, shrieks erupted and soon it turned into the girls versus the boys. The boys were more wilder and their numbers overtook the girls, and they were announced the Champions for the Uncalled for Ice Cream Match. Then came the mad rush to the bathrooms to wash away the melted ice cream. Sara to her dismay was late and had to walk around with sticky melted cream on her hair.
About ten o'clock, when everybody was squeaky clean again; they lighted a campfire and sang a few songs.
"Let's tell ghost stories!" Jay from the Seals announced.
Everyone immediately agreed. Some of the early birds retired to sleep but a pretty good number remained.
Jay flicked on his switch and shone it under his chin, making his face shine. Paul took the cue and stamped out the campfire plunging the surroundings into darkness.
"This is not really a ghost story but all us boys should know it," he winked. "That's the signal to those who knows the story." He took a deep breath.
Someone started to give an imitation on a banshee but immediately sank into giggles.
"Johnny hated his grandmother. She was a wicked old woman and she made him fetch the firewood, clean the house, cook food and many more although he was only six. One night, he couldn't take it anymore and he picked up a knife, crept into his grandmother's room, and stabbed her dead."
Jay grinned. "He set the house on fire and claimed that she died in the flames. Two weeks later, he was living life to its fullest with his newly adopted parents in an apartment on the 10th floor. Late at night, in bed, he heard his grandmother calling him. 'Johnny, I'm at the first floor….Johnny, I'm at the second floor…' Johnny got under his bed and shivered uncontrollably."
Jay took a deep breath. "Johnny, I'm on the third floor…" Those who knew the story began to join in.
"Johnny, I'm on the fourth floor….Johnny, I'm on the fifth floor…Johnny, I'm on the sixth floor…"
"What joke is it?" whispered Sara.
Greg grinned. "Nothing you chicks would know."
"Johnny…I'm on the ninth floor…Johnny, I'm on the tenth floor…" Jay flicked off his flashlight.
"Johnny…I'm at your door…Johnny, I'm RIGHT BEHIND YOU!"
At that last sentence, those who knew the joke slapped the back of his or her partner who didn't.
"Oh my God!" yelled Geena.
A few screams were heard and everyone started laughing.
"You scared the hell out of me!" someone yelled.
"It wasn't that scary," grinned Jay. "Just to those who has too livid imaginations."